


Broke

by TheRoarOfAtlas



Category: Combat Zone Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Because I wanted to, But I miss him so he can be nice for right now, Enjoy!, F/M, Jon Moxley being Moxley, Porn with Feelings, Scared You'll Hate Me trope, because I'm a sap, incredibly out of character Brain Damage I'm sure, mostly lighthearted, reader has female body parts, sweet Brodie Lee, thirst party saturday, you're my best friend trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoarOfAtlas/pseuds/TheRoarOfAtlas
Summary: All it takes is one mistake...[x-posted to Tumblr]Enjoy!





	Broke

_Oh no._

 

You stared down at the phone that had slipped from your hands, bounced off the edge of the sink and then hit the tile floor with a very final _crack!_

 

You were going to take a picture and set it as the background so that the next time Jon opened his phone he would be met with a goofy selfie (hopefully one that would make him laugh, he seemed like he needed it). Instead, you’d fumbled the phone in the bathroom.

 

You froze, listening to the sounds of the party right outside the door and praying no one had noticed the noise. Gingerly you flipped the phone over, your eyes widening when you saw how badly the screen was shattered. _Oh_ _ **no**_. It didn’t even look _functional_ anymore, portions of it flickering off and on in solid patches of white and blue.

 

Jon had been so excited about his new phone. He’d saved up for ages, grumbling all the while because obviously he didn’t really _want_ it, but it was more prudent than trying to work with his flip phone since everyone kept sending him _emails_. He had spent the first week alone just figuring out all the different things that the phone could do, before proceeding to take pictures of _everything_. The other fighters, injuries, the inside of Callihan’s mouth when the man decided to playfully bite the phone...

 

You weren’t sure whether it was the alcohol talking, but you _really_ wanted to curl up into a ball in the bathtub. Jon had _just_ landed a developmental contract, he kind of _needed_ to be able to communicate with the people he would soon be working for and you had botched everything up. All because you wanted to give him a stupid little surprise the next time he looked at his phone.

 

Leaving most of his friends (and enemies who had become less so) behind was obviously taking its toll on Moxley and as his final night drew near, you weren’t the only one to notice. Callihan and Younger had organized this haphazard party to send him off and it had been a success for the most part. Jon had been roaming from group to group through the evening, talking over the loud music, taking pictures and actually looking like he might be alright. He had set his phone down for a second near you and you’d gotten the _brilliant_ idea to swipe it.

 

And then you had ruined it.

 

Panic took over when someone knocked on the door. You quickly shoved the phone into one of your pockets, moving to rinse your hands at the sink. “Just a sec!” You called.

 

“Move it or lose it, darlin’, I need t’ piss.” Moxley warned from the other side of the door. You felt your hands start to shake and you tried to bolt past him when he opened the door. He caught your wrist on the way by, though, and you cursed inwardly. “Whoa, hang on. Can I talk with you for a sec?” He asked, shifting in place.

 

“Uh, now’s not really a great time-” You tried to tug free of his grip.

 

“Promise it’ll only take a minute. Please?”

 

You were helpless to resist the hopeful look on his face and your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Alright Mox, what’s up?”

 

“I just wanted you to know how much everythin’ that you’ve done means to me.” This was an outright _startling_ display of sincerity from the man in front of you, the words grabbing your full attention.

 

“I…what?”

 

Jon shrugged. “I mean, y’ been my friend since high school. Even with all the fucked up stuff I did as a career path, you stayed my friend. Just wanted you t’ know that I don’t take that shit for granted. You ain’t got a reason to stick around but you still do an’…I appreciate it, I guess.” He explained awkwardly. “You’re awesome.”

 

You wanted to confess right there, feeling lower than low as your best friend praised you. The ruined phone in your pocket seemed to get heavier and heavier with each word from Jon. “Well, thank you Mox! If I'd known how soppy Jack and coke got you, I'd have plied you with them sooner.” That seemed to be the right thing to say, as it got Jon to laugh and release you back into the swirl of the party.

 

You pilfered the cup from Drake's hand on your way by, laughing when the larger man roughly tousled your hair. “Lucky we like you around here, kid. Otherwise you'd be a stain on the carpet.” He grumbled.

 

His threat had no bite to it. The couch in your apartment had been a designated crash site for many a down-on-their-luck fighter, usually ushered through your door by Jon. “ _Only for the night_ ,” he would plead, and he never went back on his word. You knew if Mox and Callihan had the space they probably would have turned their apartment into a halfway house, but as such the two of them were practically living on top of each other. Younger himself had taken up residence on your couch more than once, always oddly quiet while you and Jon snapped sheets over the beat-up pullout mattress.

 

You accepted a hug from Scotty as you slowly worked your way towards the door, Vortekz deftly peeling Younger's cup out of your hand and giving you a water instead. “Stay hydrated!” The blond said over the music, grinning and raising the stolen drink to his mouth.

 

“That was Younger's, have fun swapping spit!” You replied, snickering when Scotty sputtered. “Mickie was looking for you earlier, man, you guys aren't fighting again right?”

 

“Nah, not to my knowledge at any rate. Better go find her though. Hey listen, once Mox heads out are you gonna' stop coming to the bouts?” Vortekz asked worriedly once he was done wiping his tongue off with his shirt. “I mean if you don't feel safe, that's okay, but the guys and I were hopin' you'd-”

 

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around your midsection from behind. You were hoisted bodily into the air and shaken back and forth, sloshing your insides dangerously. “What's good, cutie pie?” Brain Damage asked, chuckling when you squirmed in his grip. “Ah ah, c'mon, you know the rules!” Using his free hand he drew a line across your forehead, mimicking slicing your head open. Then, he proceeded to gently dig his fingers into your scalp to 'scoop' out your brain, laughing as you squealed with giggles.

 

“You'll starve to death if you eat my brain, you jackass!” You grimaced suddenly, “Also if you keep squeezing me like that I'm gonna' hurl.”

 

“Whoa, don't need to tell me twice.” Damage quickly released you, squinting over at Vortekz. “Where the hell is Mox? Wanted to tell him goodbye before I never fight his ass again, y'know?”

 

“Bathroom. After that, all bets are off.” You informed him, smirking at the way Damage grinned. “You guys have fun, okay? Be careful. Don't break the sink again.”

 

“I swear to shit, I break a sink _one_ time-”

 

“Hey look, I'm not a huge fan of your cousin _'Property Damage_ '. Keep the battle to a minimum. Help yourself to the silverware, _don't_ touch the spoons. Got 'em from my grandma.” A massive hand came down on your shoulder. “And _you_. I assume you're heading out early like always?” Brodie Lee would forever encourage you to stay a little longer when it came to meet-ups. No matter what time you left, he considered it 'early' (the current time was somewhere around two in the morning).

 

You offered him a tight hug and as usual, he relented, tousling your hair. Sometimes you wondered privately how you had any hair _left_ , what with the amount of grizzled men and women giving you 'younger sibling'-style displays of affection.

 

“You keep safe tonight, okay? Mox gonna' walk you home?” Brodie asked.

 

“No, I'm not going to bug him. I think I'm capable of getting there on my o-- _Damage!_ You heard Brodie! _No_ spoons! Put 'em back!”

 

...

 

Between you and Moxley there had always been a line, and you figured you knew better than to cross it.

 

Ever since he'd growled, “ _come t' the dance with me, I don't wanna' look like a total fuckin' loser_ ,” his hands jammed into the pockets of a leather jacket several sizes too wide in the shoulders, the line had been there. It wasn't like you hadn't noticed him before, you just assumed _he_ hadn’t noticed _you_. There was no real reason for him to anyway, you kept to yourself for the most part. Which was something Jonathan Moxley would know _nothing_ about. If he wasn't in hot water for one thing or another it was a cold day in hell.

 

Your mother had dropped you off at the school on that fateful night after one last session of fussing over your hair. You smoothed your dress out, still a little in awe at how pretty the hand-me-down from one of your cousins was and hoping against hope that it might have a touch of magic in the seams. Something that might let you be noticed, maybe something to perk up your plainer features.

 

“ _Hot damn_.” Moxley had been very brief with you when he'd arrived, clad in a cleaner, hole-free pair of jeans and that jacket of his. “ _Y' do understand that this ain't_ _ **prom**_ _or somethin', right?_ ”

 

“ _My mom wouldn't take no for an answer_.” Your wry response had made him laugh and just like that, the awkwardness vanished between the two of you. He grabbed your hand and led you inside, aggressively snapping his teeth when a few jeering comments came his way. You did precious little _dancing_ at the dance, he had a reputation to upkeep after all. Instead, the two of you leaned against a variety of walls and talked over the terrible music about how horrendous school was.

 

Jon Moxley was not one to stay out of trouble, but he made for one _hell_ of a friend. He was more than willing to walk you home from school and you became more skilled than you cared to admit at talking him out of the principle's office. The two of you swapped lunches, music and movies on a fairly regular basis. In exchange for the companionship of a lonely kid that everyone else seemed more than content to let slip through the cracks, you grew accustomed to his fidgeting. Jon, in turn, learned when his teasing was going a _smidge_ too far.

 

In your senior year Jon noticed a few things that you didn't (namely, new sets of eyes on you), and he insisted that you needed to learn how to defend yourself. “ _What if somethin' happens to you and I ain't around?_ ” He'd asked worriedly. “ _I'm not about to lose my best friend for some bullshit reason_.”

 

Your mom had put up a bit of a fuss at first, worried about the two of you flailing in the backyard. Your dad had thought it was hilarious to watch you grapple with each other on the old trampoline, “ _I can't even believe that buddy of yours, he's a riot. Good luck!_ ”

 

“ _I'm gonna' do great things_.” Jon insisted so often you couldn't help but believe it, that grin he seemed to reserve for you beaming on his face. “ _I know I've got a long way to go, but I will_.”

 

Jon had made it abundantly clear when he put you down as a reference for this particular gig that you didn't _have_ to accompany him to his bouts. “ _This is Bloodsport shit, plain and simple_.” He had said. “ _It'll keep me with a roof over my head until spring_.” He made no bones about the fact that it was essentially a _hyperviolent_ gore-festival. “ _You remember ECW? Yeah._ ”

 

You attended one night, ignoring his protests. You were an adult now and _more_ than capable of making your own choices, you reasoned. Jon handed you off to Brodie the minute you walked in, growling a curt, “ _make sure nothing happens to them_ ”. You had stared up at Lee, and Lee stared back down at you for a minute. His sideburn game was _outrageous_.

 

“ _Hi_.” The bearded man had grunted finally.

 

“ _Hello, I'm uh_ -”

 

“ _Mox's buddy, I gathered. You can come sit with me. Name's Brodie._ ” His smile was slow and you noticed there was a space between his front teeth. You weren't sure why that detail made him less scary, but it did.

 

Moxley continued to trudge, continued to struggle uphill against _everything_ that was put in his path and it had finally paid off. A _legitimate_ contract, one that promised steady pay and a shot at something more, one that _wasn't_ death matches.

 

You had been visiting him as per the norm the evening he got the call. He and Callihan's apartment was like a home away from home for you, tight as it was. Jon had gotten off the phone and proceeded to let out a whoop of victory, scaring you and Sami half to death. “ _Hell yeah, I got it!_ ” He grabbed you in a tight hug, laughing almost hysterically.

 

You had hugged him back once you realized what happened, bouncing excitedly. “ _You did it!_ ”

 

“ _Atta’ boy!_ ” Callihan rumpled Mox’s hair, his grin huge.

 

There was a line there though, and you knew better than to cross it. So you'd stepped away, let him go. He was finally getting what he wanted. It would be selfish to hold him back.

 

…

 

You sat on the end of your bed, cradling the destroyed phone in your hands. Mox departed tomorrow. A few days had passed since the party and Jon had realized his new phone was missing, resigning himself to splurging again even though this time he _really_ didn’t have the money. According to his claim he had everything backed up online on his old phone, which you hoped was true. It wouldn’t fix what you’d done, but at least it would mean that he hadn’t lost anything due to your mistake.

 

The sound of the front door of your apartment opening snapped you out of your staring contest with the phone and you quickly hid it beneath one of the pillows on your bed. “Hey darlin', you home?” Jon called.

 

“Bedroom!” You answered, rolling off your bed to slump on the floor.

 

Jon started laughing when he saw you, shaking your shoulder. “Oh no, what happened? Ya’ doing your Jell-O impression?” His fingers were bandaged and you sat up immediately, concerned.

 

“Mox, I thought you were done with…?” You trailed off as you saw his split lip.

 

Jon shrugged, his usual response to any worries you voiced when it came to him. “Bumped into somebody, it’s not important. I wanted t’ talk to you ‘bout somethin’.”

 

Your heart started slamming in your chest and you quickly got up, feeling like you might be sick to your stomach. _He knows_.

 

Jon tucked his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, tilting his head back and giving you a long, almost _appraising_ look. “We been friends for ages, yeah?” He said quietly. “I know all your secrets, you know most of mine. There’s one thing I never told you, though. And seein’ as how I’m heading out tomorrow, I figured it would be a little easier to tell you.”

 

“T-Tell me what?” You asked, doing your best to avoid looking towards the bed where the damning phone hid.

 

“Darlin’, I’m not good at this shit. But I’ve got leaving on my mind and I just…” Jon started scratching his neck, not meeting your eyes anymore. “I didn’t want to leave without sayin’ this shit to you, so I have to sack up an’ say it.” He pulled in a breath. “I think I love you.”

 

You gaped up at him, all your worrying about the broken phone forgotten.

 

Jon snorted after a minute, shaking his head and seeming disgusted. “I know, it’s total bullshit. But hear me out, okay? Promise it won’t take long.”

 

You nodded dumbly, still in shock.

 

“I…think I’m in love with you. I dunno’ what that really means, though. It isn’t what my parents had, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” Mox ran a hand through his hair. “But ever since you agreed to come with me to the dance a _hundred_ fuckin' years ago, it’s like there’s been this weird little switch in my head. When I’m around you it’s flicked to ‘on’ and everything’s brighter, cleaner. I can do whatever the hell it is that I need to in order to succeed. Shit, if it wasn’t for you I’d have given this gig up ages ago.” He confessed, thumbing over his bandaged knuckles. “You believin’ me every time I said I was gonna’ do big things sorta’ let _me_ believe I’d do ‘em too. Because shit, you’re the smartest person I know and _you_ thought I could do it.”

 

You moved to sink down onto your bed, your knees shaking strangely.

 

“I didn’t really think about it when we were in school. Not like that, at least. You were different, alright? You’re damn cute but not in…” Jon struggled with his words for a second. “Look, I didn’t wanna’ ruin you like how I usually do when I see something cute. I’m sure you’ve had that thought before, see a hot person and you’d rail the fuck out of them but that’s all there would be, y’know?” Moxley gestured up and down at you, taking in your whole body. “With you, with how _you_ are, I didn’t want anyone else to lay a fuckin’ hand on you. M' sorry for that, it wasn't fair to you. Probably made datin' hard.”

 

Dating had never exactly been a pressing worry of yours, more like something you thought you would try when you were financially stable. Once you were though, you kept finding excuses to decline invitations from your coworkers. You were more than content to spend your evenings attending rowdy house parties with the battered victors and well-liquored losers Jon worked with. Where was the fun in sitting at a bar, enduring the company of a mixed bag of people from your workplace?

 

“This is some bullshit an' I've lost my train of thought like six damn times but I just wanted you to know that I think I love you, and I'm going to miss the fuck out of you because either way you're my best fuckin' friend and I...I um, I wanted you to know that.” Jon finished awkwardly. He jammed his hands back into his pockets, wincing when his wrapped knuckles caught on the edge of the leather.

 

“What happened, Mox?” You finally found your voice, pointing to his hand.

 

“Brodie had words with me.” He grinned ruefully, licking his split lip. “He's not much for talkin' though. You...uh, you don't have to say anythin' to me, if you don't want to. I know it's super shitty that I waited this long to say my piece. I just wanted you to know before I left.”

 

“Mox...” You got to your feet, words dying in your throat. Jon accepted your hug, laying his head on your shoulder.

 

“I'll go.” He muttered, “M' sorry.”

 

That apology was what got you to snap, your confession spilling out before you could stop it. “I broke your phone.” You whispered.

 

“I know.”

 

You pulled back, startled and confused. “What?”

 

“I know?” He raised an eyebrow. “I already knew that? Or at least, I figured that you broke it?”

 

“ _How?_ ”

 

“Well first off, you've been avoiding me since the party. Which I thought was weird, but hey, leavin' is hard. When I got my new phone activated was when I kinda' put the pieces together. I had all my crap backed up online, like I said. There was a picture I didn't take though, first on the camera roll.” He pulled his new phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen, displaying your silly picture. “Look familiar?”

 

“I wanted to cheer you up.” You mumbled. “You were taking pictures of everyone and you...I don't know, you seemed sad about leaving. I was trying to help but I fucked it all up.”

 

“You coulda' told me.” Jon said gently.

 

“What the hell would I have said, Mox? ' _Hey, I know you worked super hard to get this phone, but I had a butterfingers moment_ '? I don't know what the fuck I would do if you were angry with me.” You replied, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “You're my best friend and you're _leaving_ , I didn't want you to be mad at me on top of everything else. It doesn't really matter now, does it?” You dug underneath your pillow for the broken phone.

 

Mox's eyes widened at the object you dropped into his hand. “ _Christ_ , what the hell? You do a backflip into the Grand Canyon or somethin'?”

 

“It hit the sink.” You explained, sniffling.

 

“Ah.” Jon shrugged and to your dismay, tossed the busted device over his shoulder. “I told the folks at the store that it got stolen. They replaced it for free because it was within the warranty date. I listen when Callihan talks _sometimes_ , y'know?”

 

“You...so you didn't have to buy a new phone?” You asked weakly. Moxley shook his head. “ _Fuck_.” You sat down on the edge of your bed, putting your head in your hands. “I'm so irritated right now.”

 

“You've been all fucked up because you thought I had to buy a new phone?” Jon asked, sitting down next to you and rubbing your back. “M' sorry darlin', I should have said somethin'.”

 

“Oh, like how _I_ should have said something about fucking up your phone?” You retorted, making him laugh.

 

“Yeah, kinda' like that.” He sighed after a minute or two. “So. I ain't mad at you. I can understand why you'd be worried about it, I gotta' work hard for what I have. But I couldn't get pissed with you. Not enough to get me to stop pestering you, anyway.” He teased, nudging your shoulder. “You mean a hell of a lot to me, you gotta' know that.”

 

“Can we rewind to the part where you were talking about how cute you think I am and stuff? Because _that_ was much better.” You said into your hands, only half-joking.

 

“Do you, uh...have any input on what I said?”

 

“I _know_ I'm cute. Don't need you to tell me, Mox.”

 

“I dig the confidence, darlin'.” Jon’s smile faded, his expression serious. “I hope we can still be friends, and that I didn’t ruin our friendship by dumpin’ all that junk on you.”

 

You shook your head, dropping your hands again. “I…um.” You twiddled your fingers and out of the corner of your eye you noticed Jon straighten up. “Listen, I kind of have…I might sorta’…”

 

“Oh _no_ way.” Jon breathed, putting together what your mumbling was trying to get across. “Seriously? You aren’t just saying that because I said it, right? I don’t wanna’ guilt you or any of that shit.”

 

You shook your head, blowing a raspberry at him. “Like _you_ could make me do anything I don’t want to do, Moxley.” You pointed out, allowing yourself to smile. Jon grinned back, his whole face lit up with excitement.

 

“Can I…?” He hesitated, then took your hand. “Can I kiss you? Little tiny one?” He asked hopefully.

 

You rolled your eyes. “ _Yes_ Mox, c’mon. We're not fourteen anymore and I’m not going to break.” Your annoyance melted away when Jon leaned over and pressed his lips to yours hungrily. Not a _little tiny kiss_ by any stretch of the imagination, he fought for dominance and groaned when he felt you surrender.

 

“ _Yes_ , fuck…” He gasped, hands moving to hold your shoulders tightly as he dropped his forehead against your own. “Fuck, nobody wake me up.”

 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You answered him, your voice higher than usual. “If you wanted to keep going…?”

 

“Oh _really_ now?” Jon’s hands hovered for a moment, hesitation written plainly on his face. Finally, at your urging, he cupped your breasts through your flimsy pajama top, moaning loudly into your mouth. “ _Ah_ , fuck. Kinda' wanted to touch you like this for a while now.” He confessed. “Wanted to see what you felt like.”

 

“And?” You asked, whimpering when he groped a little harder. “How does it match up?”

 

“S' pretty fuckin' incredible.” Jon sounded breathless. “I...shit, I never thought I'd get to touch you like this.” His stubble rubbed against your neck, leaving tingles in its wake. “Never in a million years.” His voice shook a little and you ran your fingers through his hair in a comforting gesture.

 

“You can touch me however you want.” You offered, not missing how Mox’s eyes darkened at your words. The next second you were on your back, Jon straddling you as he fought to get your shirt off over your head.

 

“ _Yes_.” He panted, “Tell me no if you want me to stop, m’ not gonna’ stop unless y’ tell me to stop so you’d better fuckin’ _tell me_ if you want me to stop, understand?” His fingers twitched nervously on your bare skin. “Fuck I’m greedy, _fuck_ I want you, Jesus-”

 

“I’m not _going_ anywhere, Mox.”

 

“Yeah but _I_ am. And if this is the last time I get to touch you for a while I wanna’ make sure it’s fuckin’ _memorable_.” Jon said desperately. “Wanna’ touch every fuckin’ inch of you, wanna’ make you come for me so I don’t forget what you feel like.” He dug his fingers beneath your thighs, lifting your rear into the air so he could cup your ass.

 

You rolled your hips at his face and your stomach dropped out at his dazed expression, the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Jon.” You called softly.

 

Blue eyes snapped up to your face. “Say that again. Say my name again.” He demanded, tugging your shorts and underwear off.

 

“Jon.” You repeated, loving the way he shuddered all over.

 

“You only ever called me Mox. I never heard you say my name before.” He made a noise in his throat that was half-growl, half-whimper. “Should say it more. Louder.”

 

“Make me.” You challenged playfully, wiggling your hips again.

 

“You oughta’ know better than t’ tease me.” Jon sucked a hickey to life on your hip, moaning against your skin when you buried your hands in his hair. “ _Fuck_ , darlin’, I-” He stopped talking, a low rumble taking over that seemed to originate in his chest. Jon then slid a finger over your pussy, collecting some of the slick you’d already produced. “ _Mm_ , let’s taste you.” He made a show out of licking you off his fingers, laughing when you whined and squirmed at the sight. Jon spread your cunt open with his fingers, making eye contact before he lowered his mouth to you.

 

You cried out when he fastened his mouth over your clit and gently sucked, unable to keep your hips from bucking up at him.

 

“That’s right darlin’, fuck my fuckin’ face.” He ordered, lashing at your clit with short, firm licks. “You _fuck_ my face like you mean it, roll those fuckin’ hips and grind yourself on my tongue.” You gripped the hair at the back of his head and Jon grunted, seeming satisfied. “Put me where you need me, use me like you _need_ me, darlin’.” He lapped hungrily at your cunt, sending little shocks through your body whenever his stubble rubbed your thighs.

 

You couldn’t have held in your moans even if you wanted to, sobbing his name as Jon methodically brought you to climax using just his tongue. You had to push him away when you came, the sensation of his eager mouth suddenly too much to bear. He sat back on his haunches, licking his lips and watching hungrily as your thighs trembled. You flung out a hand to grab his hair again and he went willingly, smirking into the kiss you took from him. “You want to be inside me?” You panted, feeling the way his mouth went slack. “Come and get me, Jon.”

 

He surged up over you, sure hands rolling you onto your belly. A gentle swat landed on your ass and you hummed, arching your back. “ _Oh_ that’s a fuckin’ sight, shit.” Jon groaned, running his fingers down the backs of your thighs. “Still fuckin’ quiverin’, someone _needed_ that first one, huh?”

 

You heard the sound of his belt being undone and you teasingly rubbed back against him, the heat of his body radiating through the rough fabric of his jeans. “C’mon Jon, what are you waiting for?” You goaded, ducking your head when he roughly groped over your ass again. You swayed your hips back and forth, every curse that you got out of him music to your ears.

 

Jon gripped your hips tight, making you feel the hard line of his cock through his boxers when he rutted into you. “You think you can handle all of this, darlin’? You think you can take every _fuckin_ ’ inch? We are gonna’ _find out_ , aren’t we?” He growled, his voice wreaking havoc on your body. “Fuck I’m hard for you, Jesus fuckin’ Christ I’m so hard for _you_.” He bent over your body, your breasts fitting perfectly into his hands while he rocked against you. “Gonna’ fill up that cute little pussy and make you fuckin’ _scream_ my name.” He slid his boxers down. “Are you ready?”

 

There was a hitch in his voice and you recognized it for what it was. “Jon, I’m not going to tell you to stop.” You assured him, giggling when he groaned and rubbed his cock over the curve of your ass. “I’ve been waiting for this, Jon, _please_.”

 

“I can hardly believe that this shit is happening.” Mox sighed. You felt his fingers at your entrance, knuckles brushing your sensitive lower lips when he gripped his cock. “I’ve dreamed about this.” He put a hand on the small of your back, pushing you down nearly flat on the bed. “You like this, lookin’ back at me and I just-” He sucked in a breath when you turned your head to the side and made eye contact. “- _fuck_.”

 

His cock slipped and slid over your slit, smearing your arousal across your lips. Jon was obviously teasing both himself and you and you finally wrapped your fingers around his shaft and guided him in. Jon’s hands slammed into the mattress on either side of your body, his drawn-out moan tripping down the entire length of your spine while his cock slowly, _slowly_ filled you up. You could feel him in your belly when he came to a stop, could feel the heat and pulse of him caressing your walls. You cried out into the pillow and you heard him groan in satisfaction as your thighs shuddered.

 

“Oh you took every _inch_ , darlin’, you’re so perfect.” He praised, fingers slipping around your hip while you quaked underneath him. “That’s right, darlin’, fuck back into me. Arch that perfect little ass up so I can get a good angle for you.” His hand splayed on your stomach, propping you up just enough to give him unimpeded access to your pussy. His first real thrust rolled your eyes back in your head, your mouth popping open of its own accord as he rocked you up the bed. “How’s that, darlin’?”

 

You gasped for breath, grabbing at his hand on your stomach and pinning it there so he could feel you pant and squirm. Jon grunted, sliding his other arm beneath your hips to wrap around you tightly. He was still wearing his shirt, the fabric rubbing against your back as he rested more of his weight on you.

 

“I am gonna’ make you fuckin’ _scream_ for me, darlin’.” Jon snarled, beginning to fuck down into you hard and fast. You were overwhelmed by his fervor, letting him have full control as you writhed and cried out at the sensations he was gifting you. The firm grip on your body, the slap of his bare skin against your own and the stubbled half-bites that kept landing on your shoulders, melding with the hard curve of his cock that dragged over your spot with every rough thrust.

 

“ _Yes, Jon, yes!_ ” You begged for more and one hand left your hip to grope your breast, Jon raising you up just enough for him to flick and tug on your nipples. He paused with his cock fully embedded in your cunt, spreading your legs a little wider.

 

“You gonna’ be good for me? You gonna’ come on my cock?” He asked, chuckling at your sob of delight when he teased your clit. “Move up, darlin’, so I can touch you better.” Your thighs were shaking almost too hard to support you and Jon crooned in his throat, his hands back on your hips. “ _Look_ at you, God. Nothing can top this.”

 

You couldn’t stand him not moving for another second, the pressure of his dick rigid against your spot driving you crazy. You bucked and Jon cupped your pubic mound, fingers spreading your lips open to roll over your clit.

 

“Come for me, darlin’, Jesus Christ.” He groaned in your ear, his words muffled by your shoulder. “Fuck my cock, use that little pussy and fuck me ‘til you come, fuck me, fuck me, _fuck_ me darlin’, I know you can do better n’ that.” He urged, burying his face in your hair. You felt his jaw twitch, felt the muscles in his arms and thighs go tight as you screamed his name into the pillow. “ _Hah_ that's it, oh my God darlin' you are so fuckin' good, so good-” He wrapped his arms around your stomach and pinned your body down so you couldn't wriggle away from him, cock pounding into you fiercely. “That's it, that's it, that's it, come for me, come for me, _come_ for me, wanna' feel you come, _please_.” Jon begged, laughing breathlessly when you screamed for him again. 

 

Your orgasm flooded you, the tension in your stomach and thighs finally snapping and leaving you boneless underneath Jon. You trembled with aftershocks and he grunted, going still inside you before quickly pulling out and coming on your back.

 

“ _Fuck_ , sorry.” Jon apologized, “Was gonna' ask first, you felt too good.” You gave an exhausted snicker and he chuckled, wiping down the small of your back with the hem of his shirt. “I probably should have gotten my jeans all the way off, too.” He pulled his shirt over his head and then slipped his arms back beneath your stomach, holding you close. You could feel his heartbeat racing in his chest against your back. “What the hell am I supposed to do without you?” He sounded abruptly forlorn. “Shit darlin', I leave _tomorrow_.”

 

You bit your lip, tapping his arm so you could roll over onto your back again. You draped your arms around his neck while he propped himself up, and then you tugged him in so you could rub your nose against his own. “We'll figure something out, Jon. You're not pussing out on your dream  _just_ yet.” Your voice was a little raw from your previous activities. Jon ducked his face into your neck, mumbling something that you couldn't hear. “What?” You asked, chucking him under the chin.

 

“Don't deserve you, is all.” He said quietly, a flush spreading over his shoulders when you gave him a loud smooch on the cheek.

 

“Shut up, you _definitely_ do. I'm going to hopefully be a pain in your ass for a very long time.”

 

“Mm, can't wait.”

 


End file.
